


Dream Girl

by estike



Category: Warrior Nun (TV)
Genre: Canon era from chapter 2, F/F, Handholding, Internalized Homophobia, Pre-Canon, Some kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:34:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25460995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/estike/pseuds/estike
Summary: Beatrice only ever felt free when she was dreaming. One night, her whimsical mind graced her with a vision of the most beautiful girl in the world.Only for her to find out a few months later that the person she dubbed her dream girl had always been very, very real.
Relationships: Sister Beatrice/Ava Silva
Comments: 82
Kudos: 553





	1. Garden of Tranquility

Beatrice learned to control her dreams at an early age just to be free. At home, she was hiding the same way she hid in school, whenever she walked down the street or even did as little as introducing herself to anyone. It was, in a sense, easier to hide than to risk revealing the most vulnerable parts of herself.

But, that did not make hiding any less lonely. 

So, she found herself escaping into the infinite realm of lucid dreaming at night, into creating the picturesque worlds she wanted to belong in instead of engaging with reality. At times, sudden nightmares would pursue her, but they were rare. As in reality, Beatrice preferred order in her dreams too. Taking the reins, she drew up the most wondrous cities and landscapes each night she achieved awareness of her dreaming state. Often, she would be all alone even here. At other times, her brain would create her temporary companions - faces she had never seen before, and faces she would never see again.  


Because deep down Beatrice feared that nobody she had known in her current life would want her enough to form any meaningful relationships. So, she explained it to herself every morning, her brain opted to create someone new. Someone she had never met before. Those people may allow her to be herself, without placing any preconceived expectations on her to fulfil.  


Her dreams were fragrant, once welcoming her in the middle of a snowy landscape with sharp pillars of ice reaching to the sky, then under the shade of a golden pavilion next. She would revisit her favourite places at times but strive to create something new always, something that may be out of her reach in real life. 

***

That night, she heard the calming sound of waves licking the shore as her bare feet sunk into the warm sand, slowly touching down at her dream scene. The scent of the tide entered her nose before she would fully be able to see the scenery before her eyes. Cobalt sea, and bright sunshine. 

She dreamed even of the gentle breeze caressing her cheek, as she made her way closer to the shore. It was a warm and friendly scenery tonight, although very simple. When she thought that, she noticed a couple of parasols in her periphery, studded in the sand. There was still a lot to build. Maybe elaborate castles of sand, or the shape of a mermaid sunbathing on a rock in the distance. Curled up, with peachy cheeks.  


Beatrice made her way towards the closest parasol and sat down under it, her fingers lightly grabbing into the sand under her hand, feeling the texture. It was almost as soft as powder, comfortably warm under the sun. She took a deep breath through her nose and stared straight before herself, observing the waves. 

As she watched the movement of the sea for only a few moments, she soon began to notice something that did not belong there. It was a head, bobbing up and down in the water, getting closer and closer to the shore. 

So she had company, tonight. 

The person made it to the shore near her not too much later. As it was a whimsical dream, Beatrice soon found herself closer to her in the blink of an eye. The parasol was gone, and she forgot about the sandcastles as well. 

Her companion tonight was a girl with dirty blonde hair that almost looked brown when wet, and dark brown eyes - almost black. Her dream girl.  


“ _ Ooh _ ,” the dream girl said succinctly, as she gave a smile to Beatrice. She seemed both pleased and impressed. “Didn’t know I could do that.” 

“Sorry?” 

She couldn’t help but notice how the water was trickling down on her body, wetting the sand beneath them, colouring it dark brown. Embarrassed, Beatrice looked away and fixed her eyes on the girl’s ankle instead.

Not again, she thought. Dreams were, of course, still hard to take control of at times, no matter how practised she was. This was amplified when she was not alone, and there were other participants involved. Beatrice would be ashamed of the nights when her desire to be kissed and embraced and be loved overrode her rational self, and she instinctively gave into her vulnerable side.

Nobody could see her, in a dream. And yet, shame remained with her. 

“Didn’t know I could swim,” the girl explained. “Can’t remember the day I could last move a limb, actually.” 

Beatrice looked up again, but this time she aimed for the girl’s eyes. Something was off. And if nothing was particularly off, it was still different from the nights she was used to. The atmosphere was not eerie but a kind of tranquillity was missing. 

What is this dream trying to teach me? She asked herself, trying to find some grounding. What insight am I being given? 

“But I guess this must be a dream, so anything is possible,” the girl continued, opening her arms wide as if she was about to fly away. “In my dreams, I can be free.” 

“This is  _ my  _ dream,” Beatrice blurted out without thinking.

They stared at each other for a long second. Was her subconscious taking over the dream completely, twisting and turning it in ways she did not understand? Making her face the fear that even in a dream of her own she is simply unwanted: a trespasser. Beatrice looked up at the sky that began to grow darker and darker, with heavy rain clouds gathering above them. She certainly did not mean to call on them. 

Then, the girl shrugged, with the beginning of a grin hiding in the corner of her mouth. 

“It’s fine with me. I don’t mind sharing.” She sat down in the sand and looked up at the grey clouds. “Never I am free when conscious, nor do I have a lot of company, so I'm not gonna say no to it...” 

Beatrice sat down next to her and decided to accept that her brain had been trying to make her believe that easily the most beautiful girl she had ever seen in a world, was in fact not just her own creation, but completely real. Why not? It would often happen that a nightmare crops its head up when one wanted to very strongly negotiate what was real, and what was about to happen. 

Beatrice liked to believe that she could control her dreams, but even after years of practice, the plot would slip out of her fingers if she could not be mindful enough. She was still collecting data and adjusting her behaviour accordingly. 

“I’m the same when I’m awake,” Beatrice cautiously told her dream girl.  


She seemed to be interested in that answer, as she asked, softly kicking the sand around under her feet. 

“So you come here to explore? Try the things you aren’t free to do?” 

Explore - maybe. To try out things she wasn’t free to? Not so much. 

“Not really.”

“Why not? That’s like… a waste of a Golden Ticket. Why not do everything you can? I'd definitely want to. Can you taste, in your dreams?” 

Beatrice froze and stared at the girl. The dream really had taken over completely by now, she noted, letting her companion go in ways she pleased. If she thought too hard about the questions, she would probably be woken up immediately. 

“I don’t remember.” 

“Taste is hard. Sometimes I’d try to imagine all these creamy cakes but get nothing out of them. Sucks, really.” 

Were Beatrice’s dreams as empty as she felt her life to be at times? Instead of fluffy cakes, she transported herself away from reality into lush gardens and enjoyed the unusual ways sunray fell on her face. She built palaces out of ice and dragged her hand through the smooth but strangely warm walls. Then, she filled rooms of a dark Victorian house overgrown with moss and withering flowers, with grey mist rising from the floor. 

That was how she explored, when alone. Her brain created moods and landscapes one would never see in real life. At times eerie and rigid, but they somehow always welcomed her, she always fit right in, never disturbing the dynamism of the scenery. 

Maybe, her mind through this dream girl was trying to tell her to try something different. To stop building wonderlands during the time she spends unconscious because that is exactly what she does with her waking hours. She was hiding. Always hiding, everywhere. 

She really should stop that. 

“What else would you try?” she asked her dream girl, looking for answers.

“Hm. Today I came to myself in the middle of an ocean, so I had no choice but to swim.” 

The girl stretched her legs as if she was exploring the movements she was capable of in this dream. Above them, the sky was clearing up again, turning a clear blue. It felt unusually real. Almost ordinary. 

Did she truly prefer the dreams where she melted into mirrors of herself, following endless mazes until she woke again? Or did she crave the ordinary - the ordinary life she was led to believe she was not qualified enough to get? No matter how hard she tried to present “normal” in real life, it only made her think that simply being herself was not worthy of love. That being herself was the enemy. 

Is this what her dream girl came to tell her today? Beatrice wondered. Could she have a good night’s sleep without trying to analyze herself even while dreaming? 

“Anyway,” the girl said, to clear the air. 

She must have noticed Beatrice’s strange gaze on her. 

This is what the dream is telling me to do, Beatrice told herself as she reached out for the girl’s hand. 

“Oh?” her dream girl commented, but there was a wide smile of approval shining on her face. “Let’s go.” 

Their toes sunk deep into the sand as they began to walk along the shore, fingers entangled with one another. Beatrice could feel her chest tightening half from excitement and half from fear. She needed to remind herself that this was simply a dream: nobody here could truly hurt her, or use anything she did against her in reality. 

“Okay. I lied,” her dream girl suddenly said, breaking the silence. “I rarely ever use that Golden Ticket either. Most often, I just dream of being dead.”

Beatrice looked at her from the side, curiously. 

“You know when you think you’re too fucked up to be alive, but you can only die in your dreams.” 

“I feel the same way,” Beatrice answered. 

About being… fucked up, that is. Maybe not the exact way she would put it, but the feeling was way too familiar. Never enough, no matter what she 

“Why not go for the Golden Ticket, then?” 

“Maybe the real Golden Ticket we made along the way was death, after all,” her dream girl answered, trying to pour some humour into her words.

Beatrice was not sure if it worked. 

“I don’t think that’s right.” 

She squeezed tighter on her hand. 

“I did enjoy being in the water. It’s also nice walking here - but it’s going to be all the more heartbreaking when I wake up and find out that I cannot really do any of it, you know.” 

“That is why I don’t really do a lot in my dreams, perhaps,” Beatrice observed.

She came here to experience freedom without trying to break her own heart. Was this the message itself? 

“What do you do then?”

“Just enjoy the scenery.” 

She tried to remember the places she had been to before. The next step they took led them through a long garden arbour with climbing hydrangeas around them. Under their feet, the grass was soft and dewy, like it would be during a misty morning. Her dream girl looked up, trying to search for the sun that was almost completely obscured above them by the abundance of climbing plants. 

“Did you make this?” 

“I did imagine it, I suppose.” 

Her dream girl let go of her hand for a moment, to step closer to the flowers and sniff them. 

“You created all of this from scratch? Cool.” She sniffed a few more times. “I think I don’t know how these flowers are supposed to be smelling like. I get nothing.” 

Beatrice closed her eyes and tried to recall the fragrance of climbing hydrangeas until she could almost feel the scent entering her nose. 

“Ooh nice?” Her dream girl suddenly said. “Did you do that? I can smell them now. You’re good! You should start some dream-travel business. Is that a thing?” 

Beatrice chuckled, trying to remind herself that she was having this conversation inside her own head. She should not feel so flattered. Or flustered.

"I doubt it is a thing." 

“I’d sign up,” the girl continued. “To have you as the travel guide in the dreams you created. It would be cool.” 

“Better than death?”

“Maybe so.” 

The girl shone a bright smile at her and stepped back to her side. A moment later, her hand slipped back into Beatrice’s and they continued walking towards the centre of the garden, nearing the end of the deep archway. 

She could already hear the splashing sound coming from the stone fountain that took the centre of the garden. Beatrice was so meticulous in creating this world that even the singsong of the birds was audible to them - although the birds were nowhere to be found. 

Her dream girl walked to the fountain and sat down on the side, dipping her hand into the clear, transparent water. There were a few pink petals floating on the surface. 

“I want to take a bath in it,” she declared, then looked up at Beatrice. “But for real. Do you do commissions?”

“Commissions?”

“Dream commissions.” She exhaled deeply through her mouth. “Can you be the mistress of my dreams, always?”

“Technically, this is my dream,” Beatrice told her as she sat down next to the girl. 

“You sure about that?” 

Her dream girl drew up closer, so their shoulders would almost touch as they sat on the cool stone. Even though it was only a dream heart, she could feel it beating in her chest like a drum. Now that she created the most beautiful girl in the world out of thin air, perhaps nobody in real life would ever be able to compare. That is, if she would remember that she had this dream the next morning. 

Beatrice could still very easily forget this face somehow and carry on with her life as if nothing had happened tonight. Although she saw everything as clearly as one perceived reality now, dreams tended to fade away by the time she properly woke up in the morning. It was only the sense of safety and tranquillity that remained with her for the earlier parts of the day. 

She allowed her fingers to comb through the girl’s dirty blonde hair - now completely dried -, then draw a line along her jaw. 

“I’m sure,” she replied. 

In reality, she would be embarrassed about this and find a way to run away from even entertaining the idea that this girl was the most beautiful creature she had ever seen. She definitely would advise herself against pulling her closer by the chin and pressing a soft and chaste kiss on her lips. Because in reality, she had seen the cruel repercussions that come with transgressions like this.

In dreams, however...

Just once, Beatrice told herself. 

The chances of her brain to remember how to create this face one more time were low. Deep inside, she hoped she would not remember in the morning, so she’d be less embarrassed about acting so needy in her dreams. She was better off exploring crystal caves deep within the earth that she had been the architect of. 

Her dream girl responded favourably and smiled into their kiss, arms snaking around Beatrice. 

“Mm. You’re smart,” she commented. “I never thought of that before. Feels much different from how it looks on TV.”

Slightly confused by her comment, Beatrice stayed silent. 

“You were right, dream girl,” the girl then added, leaving her more confused. “Death is one thing, but maybe I really do wanna experience some things first.” 

She leaned forward and pressed a kiss on Beatrice’s lips. 

“Show me more of your world, before I have to wake up.” 

***

Beatrice had largely forgotten about this strange night, in which she felt like she was trapped somewhere between dreams and reality. She had also mostly forgotten about the face of the most beautiful girl in the world, her deep, dark eyes, and the way her laughter filled the air. 

She barely remembered when she woke up the next morning, then in the coming weeks and months, the memory had washed out of her head.

That is, until she saw her face once more, right there, in Cat’s Cradle. Laying on a bed, unconscious. And as real as people could be.  That is, until she looked into those dark brown eyes and was met with the same spark in them she knew from before. 

Was that possible? Beatrice thought. For her brain to create a face like hers out of thin air. Had they met before the dream? And if so, did she unwittingly invite her on that strange journey?  


Or. Ridiculous as it was, had they truly first met in a dream? Complete strangers, believing that each was trapped within their own minds - yet meeting at a place outside the realm of rationality. 

Would the people who knew a great deal of Fate say that this was the very definition of it?

But her dream girl sat down next to her at the table and showed no signs of remembering the dream they shared… 


	2. Beatrice's Palace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Ava ran from Cat's Cradle, the two of them meet in a dream again.

She had to find out that Ava did not remember the dream they shared. At all. Or, perhaps if she did, she was politely holding her tongue about it. 

Now, Ava was hardly polite and sensible otherwise, so Beatrice had to assume that she simply forgot about her face, and everything else they ended up sharing that night. 

Although she hesitated to admit even to herself, Beatrice was hopeful for a moment when Ava decided to sit down next to her - only to realize that even if her choice itself was conscious, it was not for the reasons Beatrice expected to be chosen by her. They had no form of reunion shared between them. 

From the strange innocence with which Ava talked to her, she knew that the girl had no recollection of the dream she visited. 

Even so, there was no mistake in any of it. As if a rule had been set that no mortal could attempt to change. Ava had always been her dream girl, even before she’d first seen her face. It would not be the same with anyone else. 

Finding herself in a vulnerable position, Beatrice did not know which one she wanted more. For Ava to remember, which brought the possibility of ridicule alongside it? Or for Ava to be truly ignorant of the dream, which banished the night they spent together into the vortex, never to be recovered again. With only one half of the story intact, it could hardly amount to anything more than a fever dream. 

Sitting next to Ava, then talking to her later, she was in a strange limbo: Beatrice did not want to reveal herself per se, but she nevertheless wanted to be caught. 

For one who was always so careful about the words she chose, she went out of her way to reveal everything without really giving away anything at all. When she held Ava in her arms for a few moments, she secretly hoped it might trigger a distant memory, as she decided to place a hand on the back of her head, just as she did in their dream. Could repetition be the key? 

But, it woke nothing in her. And Beatrice was not disappointed - for her this all meant that she was not ready to be seen yet, although she may be craving it. 

The only thing Beatrice had not realized was that someone put a time limit on this quest. So the sense of urgency was muted in her head. 

No matter how selfish and careless Ava acted the moments that they spent together, she felt a pull towards her, as if the bond created between them in a shared dream would be impossible to break up anymore. It was probably only something she wanted to believe - but isn’t the world built upon blocks of beliefs that we so earnestly want to be true? 

Then, Ava disappeared from their lives as quickly as she entered. 

She was gone. Simply gone. One could not even blame her for it if they wanted to be fair. Ava had been murdered, then resurrected with a Halo thrust upon her she had no prior connection to. Could anything more nightmarish happen to someone whose Golden Ticket was admittedly to finally die and rest in peace? The Halo belonged to someone else, it was not waiting around for Ava, after all. But the contrary was true as well. Ava also was not waiting around for the Halo to flip her life upside down. 

Could Beatrice understand in a way why she’d run? Yes. Did she perhaps wish it happened the other way? Also yes. Maybe she was more of a romantic than she liked to admit. 

Then, a few days after Ava was gone, they met in a dream again. 

***

Beatrice was pacing through a hall of mirrors, keeping an eye on her countless reflections, following her. When she realized that they were a step behind her, she remembered that she was dreaming, and found herself in perfect awareness of the fact that she was sleeping in her bed, seeing yet another dream. Taking a deep breath to ground herself, she noticed the colours slowly turning more vivid around her. 

She arrived at a door that waited for her at the end of the hallway and turned the knob, a piece of a mirror broken to a thousand shards, then reassembled again to fit the round shape. 

Beatrice found herself in a drift of snow, white and powdery wherever she looked, and with the sound of small bells chiming in her ears. Otherwise, there was a deafening silence. No wind. Nothing. Then…

“Fuck!” Ava’s voice sounded in a scream from somewhere near her. She turned around, trying to find the source. “Can we stop for a moment? I’ve been kicked off a fucking mountain today already, now I’m freezing to death?” 

Beatrice tilted her head. What was she talking about? 

She spotted her dream girl soon: she was a few metres away from her, half covered by snow, with ice clinging to her hair. She looked like she was dropped into this dream right from the sky. 

“Ava?”

Ava stared at her for a few moments, her eyes squinted. Beatrice could not help but feel some sort of relief that she could meet her again. 

“I know you,” she blurted out then. “I met you in a dream before. You’re my dream girl.” 

“I thought you didn’t remember me.” 

“I remember now.” Ava then made a face, coming to a second realization. She pointed at Beatrice. “Hey, but you are also one of the nuns!” 

She lowered her hand, then tried to shake off all the snow that accumulated on her clothes and hair throughout this exchange. Beatrice bit a smile into her lower lip while watching this. 

“For someone who remembers all her death dreams so vividly to forget about her dream girl is kinda shitty, if you ask me,” Ava muttered, talking to herself. “Is this your dream again by the way? Must we be caught in a snowstorm?” 

Right. Beatrice tried to reach into the back of her mind and show her something more comfortable and welcoming. In her mind, she invited Ava back to the palace she just came from, with a thousand chambers she all created herself, leaving her mark in each and every room. The two of them landed in a salon with thick golden motifs swirling across the ceiling, forming the shape of a cage above them. 

“That’s my girl,” Ava commended her action, and she was instantly put in a better mood. 

As alien as it sounded, Beatrice wanted to hear that sentence over and over again. 

Ava stared at the cherubs following them with their eyes on top of the archway that led into the next salon and winked at one of them. 

“Not gonna lie, that’s kinda creepy though,” she said, nodding towards the cherub. “But, I mean, by far not the most frightening thing I’ve seen this week.” 

“Shall we take a walk?”

Last time they met in a similar dream, Beatrice felt like weeping tears of gold. That time, however, Ava was also unable to walk in real life, so she took it upon herself to show a piece of her own world to her: crooked and whimsical. 

This Ava has the whole world at her disposal now, so would she be interested in illusions she stacked upon daydreams, searching for pieces of herself in magical but empty spaces? Beatrice only decorated the void that appeared to her in dreams and made them her own, but when one gets a tiny taste of real life, the loneliness of a fantasy cannot compare to reality anymore. 

Only those run into elaborate dreams who fear to make a step forward in reality. 

But instead of the pity that she expected to see on Ava’s face, her eyes gleamed with interest and excitement, recalling the last night they spent together. 

“Let me see what you came up with for me this time,” she said and grabbed into Beatrice’s hand, pulling her towards the next room.

For a moment, they froze. In real life, they would probably get a shock of electricity from the sudden touch, but not in this world. Both of them remembered the way they held hands all those dreams ago, the similar feeling of warmth that washed over their bodies in a second of recognition. This is my dream girl, Beatrice reminded herself, to calm the anxious excitement in her chest. This is my dream girl, and for the time being, she remembers me. 

When she lightly dabbed her cheek with her free hand, she was indeed weeping tears of gold. 

“Holy shit,” Ava interrupted the moment, staring up as they stepped into the next room. 

The ceiling was covered by chandeliers that drooped down like wisterias, so close to them that it almost felt like they would wipe the floor. With the light coming from above, everything sparkled like they were dipped in liquid crystals. Ava emerged on tiptoes and tried to touch the tip of the petal-shaped beads. 

Walking under these chandeliers felt like stepping under purple rain that froze in time, stretched out in the air. 

“Did you build all of this?” 

“I imagined all of it.” 

Ava looked back at her, a smile passing through her face. “Your  _ mind _ …”

From the tone of her voice, Beatrice assumed it was a compliment. Ever since she met Ava in a dream, these excursions became more than a hideaway from reality. They were flower poems, offered on the altar for her dream girl, should she wish to visit her again. Beatrice wanted to create something that would entertain her. And maybe take her breath away.

On the other side of the room, a door was waiting for them, melting into the wall, if not for the small black gap that marked where the wall ended and the door began. Ava went forward and pushed it open, revealing a spiral staircase that swirled upwards. The steps were covered by mosaic tiles of precious stones and illuminated through the stained glass that hugged the staircase. The colours burned vividly as if they were looking into a kaleidoscope. 

Ava reached out and pulled her by the hand as they made their way upstairs, their footsteps echoing in the staircase. Having forgotten about the Halo, and all the miseries that pursued her in real life, Ava seemed focused on exploring the world that revealed itself to her with each new step she took. 

Pushing another door open at the end of the staircase, Ava now found herself in a white room illuminated in natural light. Mist as thick as if clouds were rising on the floor reached the height of their ankles. The smoke was fragrant of Arabian Jasmine and amber, lingering in the air like expensive perfume. Stepping out of the darkness and thick, heavy colours, they were now on the back of a cloud. 

Was this too much? Beatrice thought to herself. She had been doing nothing but coming up with rooms to impress her dream girl all this time, hoping that at least some part of the scenery would be memorable enough this time. 

A few paces away from them, there was a window nook, a bench carefully carved out of white marble that bled into the windowsill. Ava sat down on there, placing her elbows on the windowsill. Resting her face in her palms, she looked down on the icy landscape that spread out under them. 

“That is where we came from,” she noted, following the big chunks of snowflakes falling down on the other side of the glass with her eyes. “I hated to be covered by snow out there, but I guess it doesn’t look bad from here.” 

She removed her elbows from the windowsill and faced Beatrice instead. 

“You know? This really brings me back.” 

It was a long while ago that they were sitting on the brim on a stone fountain that they also used as a bench, kissing each other, but Beatrice did not seem to be able to forget even for a second. That time, she was brave, thinking that her mind was simply teasing her. This time, she knew that her dream girl was much more than a dream girl. She transcended imagination. 

And even so, that fact did not seem to faze Ava one bit. This time it was her who pulled Beatrice closer by the chin and pressed a kiss on her lips, then slowly deepening it, to experiment. They were still in the realm of dreams, yet Beatrice could not help but think how real everything about it felt. Losing her concentration, she found themselves back in the lush garden from last time when she opened her eyes, then as if it was only a glitch, they were sitting on the marble bench again. 

She curled both of her arms around Ava, knowing that infinity only existed within this very moment they shared. And, hoping that the two of them would find the same brand of infinity again, once the dream was gone. 

Beatrice smiled into their kiss without realizing. All this time, she missed Ava. Was that strange? Could you even miss someone you once met in a distant dream? Either way, here she was now, missing her. 

What she truly wanted was for the Ava on the other side of reality to decide to choose her as well. Otherwise, she was doing nothing more but fooling herself. 

Deciding to explore on her own, her dream girl moved down to Beatrice’s neck, peppering kisses all over her exposed skin. She bit on the inside of her lip, forcing herself not to make a sound, and closed down her eyes again before the white hall would melt into the garden once again. 

That moment reminded her how powerful and frightening dreams could be. We were only ever saved by the inevitable alarm clock in the morning. 

“I really like being a tourist in your dreams. It’s fun. How could I even forget?” Ava wondered later, murmuring into her skin. “Something really is fucked up with me.”

That was what gave her the idea first. She curled a lock of Ava’s hair around her finger, playing with it. As she was doing so, she tried to bring her memories back from last time, to see whether her theory would check out. 

“You told me last time that you lied when you said you were trying to experience all sorts of things in your dreams. But what if you were not?” 

“What if I was lying about lying, you mean?” Ava corrected her. 

“What if the only dreams you can remember once you wake up are the ones in which you were dead?” 

Ava sniffled as she gave the idea some consideration. “Hm. You mean to say I’ll forget this again?” 

“I don’t know. I am as new to this as you are.” 

Ava nodded a few times, repeating “right, right.” The white smoke in the hall began to rise and almost got up to their knees by now. When she remembered Beatrice from their shared dream, she did not seem to be so keen on escaping. Just as this one component changed absolutely everything in her world. That gave her a bit of hope. 

“Do you think you’ll come back?” Beatrice asked because she decided she wouldn’t be scared of the answer. 

“Actually, for a moment I forgot that real life existed outside this so thanks for reminding me,” Ava admitted, without giving her a straight answer. Then, she shook her head. “I have a feeling that we will meet again anyway.”

“In dreams, or in reality,” Beatrice added, to finish the thought. 

Ava blew some warm air onto the glass and drew a wonky heart with her index finger. For a while, she just admired her own artwork with her head tilted. 

“If I remember this dream,” she said then, “I will definitely try to go and meet you. That’s a promise.” 

“Be careful with the promises you make, Ava,” Beatrice warned her. “They come with repercussions when you cannot deliver them.”

Ava looked around in the hall as a response as if she was looking for something. 

“What is this sound?” she asked, instead of commenting.

“What sound?”

Then, she could hear it as well. Her fingers laced into Ava’s, trying to make sure she can keep the girl by her side.

“It’s my alarm clock,” Beatrice said. “It is going to wake me up.”

Ava opened her mouth to say something to her, but by the time she spoke, Beatrice could not hear her voice anymore. 

***

As much as Beatrice hoped that the two of them could meet again soon again, she had no visitors at all in her dream the next night. She felt like she was somehow split into two: the self her peers knew in real life who would always act measured and rational, and the Beatrice who would go to sleep each night hoping to be faced with her dream girl once again. 

It took a toll on her, but she was used to hiding everything, this was just yet another thing to put on a shelf. 

She knew that Ava still had no recollection of their dreams when she went to pick up Mary in the car and she was not tagging along.

“Is she coming?” she asked, hoping that yearning did not filter through her voice.

“No,” Mary replied. “But she will.” 

Wanting to have her dreams and reality aligned on the same page for once in her life, Beatrice could only wish that she’d be right. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm posting this quite late at night so I hope I didn't accidentally leave in any embarrassing typos. If I did, I'm sorry - I tried to look out for them.


	3. Crystal Caves

Mary was right. She was either right or simply lucky this time, but either way, Ava did make her way back to Cat’s Cradle, albeit almost too late. 

The circumstances in which they reunited left little room for Beatrice to spend too much energy on acting wistful, but it didn’t mean she couldn’t spare a glimmer of hope here and there. She did promise in a dream after all that she'd come back if she remembered. At times, Ava looked at her with the same admiration she did in their shared dreams when she would be marvelling at the scenery she created, and it pulled at her heartstrings harder than she was comfortable admitting. 

But this also showed her that the Ava she knew from her dreams was never too far apart from the Ava she met in reality. That in itself was enough to provide her with some warmth and comfort. She didn’t remember the last time - before Ava - such feelings would even attempt to overcome her. And while she thought that showing off before a crush was far away from who she really was, she needed to learn that she indeed had the urge to impress Ava. At times by creating worlds out of nothing, and at other times by fighting.  


“Beatrice is a badass,” Ava declared, and her tone echoed the way she talked to her in dreams.

And despite all of that, she still did not remember anything. It started to feel like some kind of a prank, where not only Ava but the whole world between dreams and reality was trying to play with her and all these feelings that kept steadily building up inside her. 

But it is always in times of crisis when we make the deepest connections with others; when we learn to belong. 

If only Ava remembered the other half of the story as well, so they could be a whole again. Beatrice’s urge to be caught in this sticky spider web of feelings only grew each time she looked at her. 

The pull that directed them towards one another in the realm of dreams was supposed to be just as strong in real life. She danced with Ava on the edge of limitless possibilities, waiting for the single moment of recognition that would finally change the current. Their whole lives, they were shown what it felt to be completely abandoned just to discover unity through one another. 

It was in everything. In the fears and the dreams they shared. In the offerings they made to one another. 

For in her dreams, Beatrice built sky-high castles for her out of thin air with the power of creation. Then now, in real life, Ava used the Halo to save her life as their clash with Sister Crimson turned desperate.

When she shouted her name, it was full of the emotions she always tried to hide behind countless veils, crying out loud in worried despair. For some, that would be enough for a confession. Fingers slipping between fingers just like when they held hands in their dreams, but Ava was too distressed for it to trigger a memory - and she did not have the heart to blame her for it. 

The only thing she could do now was to have faith: that after all, their real selves would catch up with the dream before it would be too late. 

It was not until they found a proper shelter that both of them could take a few deep breaths, and enjoy a moment of peace. Ava looked her up and down like she was seeing her for the first time again.

“What you did back in Cat’s Cradle,” Ava said, referring back to the little interlude with Sister Crimson. “That was a whole feat. Girl, your mind…” 

She had heard that before. Those very words. 

“Yes?” she asked, attempting to prompt her to continue this time. 

“Do you keep everything about the world in there? ‘Cause it sure seems so from the outside.” 

“No, not from  _ this  _ entire world.”

Ava squinted at her, then let out an exhausted laugh. “Okay. That implies you have other worlds in your head, you know.” 

Beatrice took a deep breath, pressing a smile of resignation to the corner of her mouth. Ava was stubborn indeed, and her mind was just as stubborn, blocking out all those sweet memories as if they could hurt her at all. She was so close to figuring it out, and yet so painfully far, and Beatrice still wasn’t keen to just spell it out for her. 

“We all do, Ava.” 

“No. Not all of us.” Her eyes shone with melancholic glimmer for a moment. “I haven’t even explored this world yet.” 

Although Beatrice thought she condemned herself to a life of solitude, at least she could seek refuge in the fantastic realms she created in her head. Ava was even deprived of her dreams, as she couldn’t remember the golden skies and the far-flung adventures that cornered her each time she closed her eyes at night. When Beatrice realized that, she also understood the depths of the prison Ava lived in for most of her life, unable to tear herself away from the notion of solitude even for a moment. Their loneliness was so similar and yet, the smallest details made all the difference. 

All that we are not conscious of, all that we are unable to remember will not make a difference to our lives when it comes to the big picture. They may have been happy together in those stolen moments, sucked into a bittersweet dream, but as long as Ava could not remember, it would never improve her quality of life. It would never make a difference to her.

When Beatrice thought of that, the idea wrenched her heart. But at the same time, it also gave her an incentive.

The two of them found each other in dreams - now it was time they would reunite in reality too. And it had to be Beatrice who triggered her memories before they’d inevitably run out of time. The very climate of the world was not allowing for a slow-burn, after all. 

But even if you left all the clues out there for Ava in the open, she was not the type of girl who would put two and two together. Understanding subtlety wasn’t one of Ava’s virtues. 

And confessions weren’t Beatrice’s strength. She tried to keep close, do everything in her power that felt authentic enough to herself, and hoped that her message would be delivered sooner or later. 

See, Beatrice would hold Ava in her arms, gently brush her hair out of her face and pray, for there was not much else she could do. And Ava would melt into her arms, seeking comfort, but show no recognition. 

Then, night came. 

***

The first thing Beatrice noticed was the silence. Then came the darkness. It crept up on her like fog, the green-hued mist building up until she could barely see anything around her. She tried to find a way out, but moving was impossible like she wasn’t a girl but a heavy statue, planted at one place with her stone limbs weighing her down. 

Then, she saw it. She saw Ava on a bed, laying on her back, eyes wide open but glassy.

“Here we are again,” Ava’s voice sounded beside her, giving out a tired sigh. Her tone echoed in the thick darkness. 

“Ava?” 

She only materialized next to Beatrice when she called her name, slowly gaining a form. That was when she realized that this time, it must have been her who was intruding in someone else's dream. The atmosphere was different. She didn’t recognize her creation in the scent of resignation and despair that encircled them.

“Dream girl?” Ava asked, in a cautious voice. 

None of them could move yet. 

When she didn’t answer, she added as if she couldn’t believe what she was saying. “... Beatrice?” 

“It’s me.”

Ava looked down at her counterpart on the table, cold and dead, her lips almost glowing in a pale blue hue. Although Beatrice could tell that the girl laying there was not real it was still a dreadful view. It may have been Ava’s Golden Ticket, but the view represented Beatrice’s biggest fear. Losing the only person who allowed her to show her true colours, and enjoy what it meant to be herself without the usual judgement that would follow. 

Beatrice found herself blindly reaching for her hand.

“Why are you here?” Ava asked, unable to take her eyes off of her dead counterpart.

“I think I am here to guide you away from here.” Beatrice closed her eyes for a moment and concentrated on her own dream world. “There is much more to this than what they let you see, Ava. There is always more to it. And I need you to know.” 

She pointed at Ava’s body - cold and dead.

“There is much more to you than what they let you see in the past, too.” 

Beatrice felt the girl’s sadness wash over her like an ocean wave, knocking her down her feet. It was an emotion Ava would show herself at her most vulnerable when she had no other choice but to yield to the overwhelming feelings that pursued her, forcing her to face her biggest fears. Being alone, abandoned, a nuisance to everyone. Thinking that letting herself die was for the greater good, because the world would not need her anyway. 

She finally found the hand that she sought and as their fingers intertwined with one another, Beatrice used all of her brainpower to transport the two of them away from here. There was much more to the dream world than the cheap fantasy of dying over and over again. And much more to life, too. 

Ava held onto her hand. 

“Blink,” she instructed her, and by the time they opened their eyes again, the corpse was gone.

At first, there was not much more light filtering through, but the scent changed to somewhere between damp and salty. She couldn’t tell why a crystal cave would be the first thing that came to mind, but at the same time as the dream sun rose above to shine through the translucent crystals dripping down the ceiling, the divine scenery somehow made sense.

This was much more simple than anything she had shown Ava before, but in the simplicity, a kind of beauty was hiding that she could never manage to invoke before. Instead of trying to show off the capacity to which her brain could create wonderful landscapes, her only aim was to get Ava’s mind off of death. To show that she was not alone. That as long as she chose to be part of this world, there would be always someone by her side, leading her towards possibilities she hadn’t even considered before. Dreams were beautiful, but loyalty was above all. 

“Where are we?” Ava asked, and her voice echoed in the cave.

“In my mind.” She took a breath through her mouth. “No, I think it’s still yours.” 

She looked up at the crystals twinkling in a faint silver. Maybe this was partly her creation, but she was only a guest this time. She wasn’t creating her own world, she simply helped Ava to shape her own into something more comforting and divine. 

“And if it’s yours, will you believe that there has always been much more to your dreams than the morgue?” 

Ava pulled her by the hand and they began to explore the cave. There was a high pitched whistling in their ear as they made their way further between the glittering dripstones. It sounded cleansing, pure, and new. In fact, with each step she could feel Ava’s imagination taking the reins of the scenery, filling the space with her own ideas. It was perhaps not as conscious as Beatrice’s creation, but it was definitely a strong start.

“I’m beginning to see that,” Ava commented, dragging the words out as she stretched her neck out so she could see the crystals closing up above them on the ceiling of the cave. 

As the cave began to take a new form, following its new mistress, it started to remind Ava of solemn gothic architecture, always reaching for the sky in sharp, graceful lines. This time the crystals lit up the place, though. 

The ringing strengthened in her ear as if they were approaching the source of it with each step they took. She wondered if this was the turning point she waited for, although she didn’t know what exactly changed. This time, Ava squeezed harder on her hand. 

“I would like you to remember me,” Beatrice told her. “When we are awake.”

“I know who you are.” 

“In dreams you know who I am, but when we wake up, you forget about half of the story.” 

Ava ran her finger down on one of the crystal pillars, reaching out towards the sky, observing it from close.

“Well, you are the smartest person I know, so… Does your incredibly attractive mind have any suggestions on how to remember?” 

Beatrice shook her head, out of ideas, as they kept walking into the depths of the cave. They could only see a few steps ahead since the landscape was still in the making. 

“Can you just give me a hint, or something when we wake up?”

“I’ve been giving you more hints than appropriate.” 

Then, Beatrice stopped, and the ringing in her ear ceased at the same time. 

“What?” Ava asked.

“You say you only ever remember the dreams when you are dead.”

“Mhm, that’s true.” She agreed with a nod. 

“I was there tonight. When you died.” 

A smile spread out on Ava’s face, turning into a shamelessly ecstatic grin. One did not normally get so excited about death dreams. 

“Do you think I’ll remember the dream when we wake up?” She turned Beatrice towards herself and corrected her sentence. “Do you think I’ll remember you when we wake up?”

I hope so, Beatrice wanted to say. Instead, she searched for better words. Less desperate.  


“I believe there is a possibility that you would remember.” 

“Bitch, I better,” Ava murmured under her breath. Then, she pulled Beatrice along with herself, as she would always do. “Let’s see what this old cave has to offer, before then.” 

The crystal walls along them began to pulse with a warm orange light, matching her heartbeats.

She had a strange feeling, like something was mercilessly squeezing at her throat, and when Beatrice dabbed her finger at her cheeks again, she was indeed weeping tears of gold.

***

She woke up without being able to remember how their dream ended. Was she with Ava for the whole time? Did something happen that separated them? Beatrice stared at the ceiling for a while, trying to place the puzzle pieces together in her head. 

It was easy to recall the crystal walls that grew tall towards the sky, and the light that filled them that made them glitter and come alive. She also remembered the faint hope - that finally the two of them would be able to reunite both in dreams and reality. 

She listened to her heartbeats, beginning to beat faster and faster in her chest as she was overtaken by a strong wave of excitement. Without a definite plan, she dressed up and made her way out of the room she was staying in. 

This one time she did not need a plan. Before she would even reach the end of the corridor, she could already see Ava heading in her direction as well. When she spotted Beatrice, her footsteps quickened. Unable to keep her calm, she also began to move towards Ava in haste. 

Without saying anything, her dream girl only threw her arms around her like the first time they met in real life, clinging into her. This time there was much more behind it. Beatrice allowed herself to melt into the embrace and she felt a calm wash over her immediately. She was found.  


“In dreams,” Ava whispered into her ear.

“And in reality,” she finished the thought. 

She moved away just enough so she could see Ava’s face, the recognition in her dark brown eyes. Just by looking into her eyes, Beatrice couldn’t help but smile. She cupped Ava’s face with both hands.

“I take it worked?” 

Ava tried to nod as a reply.

“Well, dream girl, you proved it once again.”

“Pardon?”

“That your mind is incredible.” 

For this one time, she did not care who may be around. When Ava pressed closer and brushed her lips against hers, she returned the kiss with the same ease she would in their dreams. 

When they separated from the tight embrace for a moment, she was suddenly overwhelmed by emotion, as she realized that their story may have come to a happy ending despite all odds. Tears of joy and relief were choking her and she needed to remind herself that this was not the right time for weeping. The corridor around them was quiet and still grey in the scarce light. 

“We did it,” Ava told her. “We are here.” 

Beatrice lifted a hand to dab the tears away from the corner of her eye. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to make a board to illustrate what I had in mind for each dream scenario Beatrice created click [[here](https://www.pinterest.co.uk/marieisidorer/dream-girl/)] if you'd like to take a look.

**Author's Note:**

> I tried to leave the ending open because I felt like I might have something more for a fourth chapter, but wanted to make sure that the story is a whole like this too.


End file.
